


Primal Urges

by perplexed (orphan_account)



Series: Grand Theft Smosh AU (Polysmosh) [1]
Category: Smosh, Smosh Games
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gang World, Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Gang Violence, Gangs, Leather Kink, M/M, Multi, Other, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 19:25:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/perplexed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The gang get back from a successful job, and Ian and Anthony celebrate the only way they know how.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Primal Urges

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings for descriptions of violence, minor gore, injury, mentions of guns, sex and... It's a gang AU what do you expect? Please don't read if any of these things bother you!**
> 
> This smutty monster is far longer and far pornier than I planned but hey, what can ya do? Meet my other AU plot bunny that's been sitting in my head for months, along with the Hybrid AU!

“I’m retiring,” Mari sighed, though she was only half serious. She picked idly at a scabbing wound on her forearm, leftovers from a struggle inside the bank with a cashier who wanted to be a hero but who ended up with his brains sprayed up against the plexiglass barrier between him and the customers. Derisively, she smirked at the memory and looked up at Ian, who was busy plucking glass from a wound on her leg. Mari barely felt the tug and pull of pain when Ian freed the last piece.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Ian said, eyeing the rest of her injuries carefully to make sure he hadn’t missed anything before going back to bandaging Mari’s leg. Once he was done, he sat back on his haunches and sighed softly as he looked around at the rest of his associates, all of whom were in various states of wellness, from Anthony, who was still feeling the adrenaline rush of a successful job and all but bouncing around in his motorbike leathers, to Joven, who was tourniqueting a gash on his arm with his dirty t-shirt and gurning with pain.

“Yeah, well, I’ve thought about it,” Mari piped up again, standing up from her seat on top of a crate and shaking her injured leg a couple of times. She leaned down to kiss the top of Ian’s head. “Thanks babe,” her voice was soft, a contrast to her sleek muscular form and permanent cocky grin.

Ian nodded a couple of times and patted the top of the crate, beckoning to Joven since he was getting paler and paler by the moment. Even though the cut only needed a couple of stitches, Ian discovered upon unwrapping it, Joshua was acting as though his arm was severed. He was always a bit of a drama queen, Ian thought with a small smile.

“How did you even manage this?” Joven shrugged his good arm up in response.

“Dunno, guess I caught my arm on some glass and didn’t notice until the blood reached my fingertips. Then it started hurting.” Laughing, Joven tried to ease the mood but only succeeded in making himself feel more queasy. He had no issue with blood and guts - so long as they weren’t his own. In contrast to Wes’ fascination as Ian had sutured a small cut on his hand, Joven spent the entire time looking away and dramatically biting his free hand in silence.

“There, all patched up.” Ian gently patted Joven’s lower arm, which was still stained with blood, only some of it his own. He got a kiss on the cheek as a thank you before Joven quietly sloped off with Wes, Flitz and Mari, keen on getting some sleep once the colour had returned to his cheeks.

Sohinki and David, (better known as Lasercorn in the right circles,) had already left a few minutes earlier - they still had some loose ends to tie up after the money from the job had been divided, and while they were polar opposites they worked miraculously well together so for the most part they just got on with what needed doing, even when everyone else was ready to pass out or party the night away after a job.

That left Ian alone with Anthony, who was sprawled out on a worn out couch in the corner of their small warehouse. Ian set to packing away their medical supplies - they were nothing fancy, just some simple alcohol, suturing equipment, bandages and the like - while Anthony watched, his leather jacket undone halfway and his hair ruffled from having his helmet on for the best part of the night.

“C’mere,” Anthony said, just loud enough for Ian to hear him. He was grinning widely, still obviously on a high from completing yet another job. Ian suspected that the two beers he’d had since getting back to the warehouse was only helping his good mood, not that Ian was complaining.

“Give me a sec…” Ian wandered over to a metal locker and flung it open, storing away the medical toolkit in his hands. He dusted his hands off before shutting the door and locking it with a combination padlock.

Anthony surprised him by grabbing him from behind and pressing up against him. He smelled of petrol and leather, and something Ian never had been able to pin down.

“Surprise.” Laughing, Anthony let Ian turn around in his arms. As soon as they were facing each other, Anthony’s lips went to Ian’s neck and started kissing, his day old stubble scratching against Ian’s fuller beard in a pleasant way.

Ian didn’t respond verbally, instead he just closed his arms around Anthony’s body, fingers running down Anthony’s back. He pushed his hands underneath the impossibly tight leather trousers Anthony had on, pleased to discover that he only had boxers on underneath. With a half-smile, Ian squeezed at the other man’s ass and ground up against him, pent up energy and excitement coursing through his veins at mach speed.

Anthony pushed Ian against the metal locker with a satisfying ‘thunk’. It took a second for Ian to process Anthony’s lips against his, but when he did he melted into the touch, easily getting into the swing of things.

It was a habit at that point for them to make out after a successful job - other members of their relationship came and went, changing faces with each job well done, but Anthony was always a constant. Ian pressed himself up against Anthony with more insistence and a small grunt of impatience, only to get his hands pulled from Anthony’s leather jeans and pinned up against the metal locker, above his head.

A devilish smirk crossed Anthony’s lips and he nipped hard at Ian’s bottom lip. “Couch? Or do you wanna be romantic and wait until we get home?” Anthony teased, his words punctuated by his mouth making its way down Ian’s neck again.

“Couch is fine,” Ian gasped out. Anthony had let go of one of Ian’s hands and was palming him roughly through his jeans.

“Good, I was hoping you’d say that.” Anthony chuckled, letting Ian’s other arm fall as well. He pulled away and sauntered in the general direction of the sofa, stopping along the way to pick up his wallet from the table and produce a condom and a small packet of lube from it. Ian followed him, but instead of taking the detour he flopped down on the couch and lay down, preemptively unfastening his jeans, kicking his sneakers off and discarding his shirt despite it being cold in the warehouse.

“No,” Ian started when Anthony started to unzip his jacket. “Keep it all on, ‘s sexy.” He smiled coyly when Anthony smirked at him.

“Oh, I see.” Anthony closed the gap between himself and the sofa, easily slotting himself between Ian’s legs and mouthing down Ian’s neck, onto his chest and lower still to his stomach. Ian was already hard inside his boxers - something about Anthony in those motorcycle leathers did unspeakable things to him, especially when Anthony also smelled like sweat and oil.

Anthony breathed hot and heavy across Ian’s length where it was tucked into his boxers, moving to mouth at the head through the thin fabric slowly. Ian arched his back and whined high in his throat, letting the whine trail off when Anthony pulled back and tugged at Ian’s jeans. There was a time and place for foreplay, and Anthony had decided that this wasn’t it.

Ian shuffled out of his jeans and boxers with some help from Anthony, too hot and bothered to worry about the lack of foreplay himself. It was cold in the warehouse, but Ian’s body was still prickling with heat despite that, hotness settling into his bones and thrumming beneath his skin when Anthony’s eyes surveyed his naked body and the other man’s lips curled into a smile.

Sitting back on the sofa, Anthony unzipped his leather jacket and jeans and beckoned for Ian to sit on his lap. Ian straddled Anthony’s thighs, his length bobbing slightly when he moved. He leaned down and kissed Anthony hard, tangling his fingers into Anthony’s hair and tugging roughly.

Anthony was the one to break the kiss, tipping his head back so his lips were just out of reach. He still had the condom and lube in his hand, and he skillfully opened both with a single movement, only a little lube making its way onto his fingers. He handed the condom to Ian, who eagerly reached down between them and nudged Anthony’s boxers down until he was free from them, fumbling slightly as he rolled it down the other man’s length slowly. For good measure, he gave Anthony’s length a few long, languid strokes when the others’ slick fingers found his entrance and easily pressed inside of him.

Ian arched his back, his hand still on Anthony and his other coming up to rest on Anthony’s chest. He ground his hips down and rocked them slowly, already coming apart at the seams from Anthony’s small ministrations. Moaning, Ian tilted his head back, exposing his neck as Anthony added another finger and let him rock down against them. Anthony bit at Ian’s neck when he withdrew his fingers, hard enough to leave a mark that would take a day or two to fade away.

“C’mere,” Anthony murmured, giving Ian’s ass a smack that rang out through the warehouse satisfyingly. He positioned himself at Ian’s entrance and, with his other, sticky hand, pulled Ian down onto him slowly.

“Fuck,” Ian groaned out, feeling Anthony fill him in a queerly pleasing way. He bottomed out and took a deep breath before rocking his hips slowly, both of his hands resting on Anthony’s chest as a way to steady himself and stop himself tipping forwards too far. “So good,” he mumbled, managing a small smirk at how nice Anthony’s motorbike leathers felt underneath his fingers.

Anthony grew impatient with Ian’s slow rocking soon enough and gripped the other man’s hips firmly, easily maneuvering Ian to get him to bounce in his lap. Ian took the instruction like a professional, shuffling his knees back just slightly so he could properly slide himself over Anthony’s length. Ian was already panting, excited at the thought that any one of their other partners could walk in having forgotten something or other.

“Y’look so good,” Anthony offered, sliding one hand up over Ian’s side and onto his chest, thumb and forefinger teasing at Ian’s nipple playfully. A whimper echoed from Ian’s mouth when Anthony met one of his thrusts and caught the spot inside him that made electricity shoot down to his fingertips.

Anthony started a rhythm up, moving his hips slowly to start with but quickly speeding up, using his grip on Ian’s hip to tilt the other man’s hips back slightly. Ian was groaning and bucking wantonly every time Anthony moved, rocketing towards the edge quickly

He tensed above Anthony for a second, but Anthony didn’t stop pressing up into Ian, even when the other man came over his bare stomach and chest. He rode out his own orgasm quickly, slamming his hips up into Ian’s boneless body as the man above him made soft noises and slumped his head onto Anthony’s shoulder.

“Same time next week?” Anthony joked breathlessly, rubbing his fingers over the marks he’d left on Ian’s hips.


End file.
